


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by lightsway



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsway/pseuds/lightsway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stolen kisses, secret glances, and a song they both hate is what keeps them warm when it's coldest out. For the Mischief and Mistletoe holiday gift fic exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BombshellKell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombshellKell/gifts).



“Baby, it’s cold outside.” Her words were quiet, as was the soft laugh that followed them.

A light snowfall drifted around them, small, white flakes catching in his hair and his eyelashes, and she thought he looked regal. Like a king. A Snow King. But she knew he would tease her if she said those words aloud. He would tell her it looked more like dandruff, or a slow and cold death. So she kept the words to herself and smiled at him.

“That’s a terrible song, Sif.” His words were hot against her ear, a contrast to the cold hand that was pressed against the small of her back, up under her winter coat and thick shirt.

They had managed to slip away from Christmas Eve dinner with Loki’s parents and brother, but they both knew they would only have brief minutes to themselves before they had to go back inside and pretend there was nothing between them. He wished there was nothing between them, at least where their clothing was concerned, but it was cold, and the wall of the house she was pressed against was even colder. He would let her keep her clothes.

“But it’s only the truth.” Her voice was filled with teasing as she kissed him, his lips seemingly frozen against the warmth of her own.

They enjoyed playing this game. He was built for the cold, even if his lithe frame didn’t look the part. Where she needed heavy jackets, he wore a simple coat; where she wore beanies and gloves, he would occasionally don a light scarf. She always tried to warm him up, but it seemed his touch left behind goosebumps on her skin, and she left only a fleeting warmth. She tried, though.

“We should get back inside.” If nothing else, his breath was hot and enticing.

She brushed the snow from his hair and his shoulders, and only in her head did she tease him about being the King of Winter. Her King of Winter.

 

* * *

 

Where Loki was the most comfortable in the winter, Sif was the most comfortable in the summer. His skin stayed cool somehow, even in the heat, but it didn’t keep him from sweating and wanting to stay indoors, with the air conditioning down low enough that it might start snowing in his house. She would take him outside anyway. To enjoy the sun. To enjoy the beach. To enjoy her favorite time of year the way she tried to enjoy his.

Sometimes she would go into the office building where he worked and request a few minutes of his time - _urgent business, won’t take long_ \- and they would sneak away to the parking lot two buildings down, and he would teasingly complain that her kisses made him too hot. But he would run his hand through her long, dark hair that somehow looked perfect even when slightly damp with sweat, and he would think that she must be the Queen of Summer.

He could never say it aloud, though, or it would be an opening for her to continue to call him the King of Winter. He didn’t dislike the nickname, but it was fun to tease her.

Her kisses were always the sweetest, but they seemed even more so when they were the last few they could get in before it would be suspicious for him to be out any longer. She would trap him against the building with her strong arms, somehow perfect even in the blazer she wore in the heat, and kiss him over and over again, a longing behind them that would leave him craving his Summer Queen even more.

 

* * *

 

The cold always came again, too soon for her liking, but it didn’t keep her from standing outside in the middle of the night, two streets away, with the typed out message sent from her phone to let him know she was waiting.

_Baby, it’s cold outside._

Only minutes later she saw him coming her way, and they ducked into a shadowed corner where they exchanged kiss after kiss, she trying to warm him, he enjoying the game. They held each other close, as close as possible, and she kissed his lips, his nose and cheeks, kissed the snowflakes from his eyelashes. She shuddered when his cold lips pressed against her neck and trailed up to her ear, when his hand slid up her back and pressed cold fingers against her spine.

“That’s a terrible song,” he breathed against her ear, but she just laughed and tried to kiss his lips warm again. Her Winter King. Her King of the Cold.

 

* * *

 

They had discussed marriage only briefly before. He couldn’t do it, his parents wouldn’t approve, and he was always so eager to please. She knew this firsthand. But the part of him that never wanted to disappoint his parents was becoming frustrating. She would ask him to marry her, in front of his parents should she need to, and they could be married, be together, be openly happy with each other.

But the words were wiped clean from her mind and from her tongue when she showed up to Christmas Eve dinner with the family and he introduced her.

“Sif, this is Sigyn. My fiancee.” His words were forced, his smile false, but his words were true. Agonizingly true.

His parents were so proud, so very proud, of their son’s engagement. All of dinner was spent talking, gushing, about the new couple, a unification of families as well as family businesses. A marriage of happiness and prosperity and growing partnerships. The perfect union. The absolute perfect. She agreed with everything with barely stifled bitterness in her words.

She was surprised she could hold in her tears so well.

 

* * *

 

She received his message late into the night, when it was bright only from the streetlights reflecting off the snow. _Baby, it’s cold outside._

_Baby, it’s cold outside._

_Baby, it’s cold outside._

Every message was a stab of pain, every word breaking her heart even more. She didn’t hate him, couldn’t hate him, but she hated the words, hated what they meant between them. He could never be hers, and she could never be his, and all of their meetings would be a secret to be shared with no one. Only each other, and now, not even them. And she had wanted to marry him.

_Baby, it’s cold._

_Baby._

_Please._

He was waiting outside, right outside, out front, but in the shadows on the outskirts of a street lamp. The King of the Cold, standing in the shadows and leaving her heart frozen. She stood in the light, the cement cold beneath her feet, the wind cold on her arms and face, but it didn’t compare to the cold he left behind.

“It’s arranged.” His words were soft, but desperate, as desperate as the hands that reached for her and tried to draw her into the darkness with him. She pressed the engagement ring into his palm. A simple silver band she had wanted to give him, now given under the wrong circumstances.

“King of the Cold indeed.”

He didn’t call for her as she went back inside, and that only hurt more.

 

* * *

 

A year passed. A year devoid of kisses and meetings, secret or otherwise. A year of not seeing each other’s faces, save for the local newspaper announcing the date of the wedding - December 24th. A long year of wondering if she should try a new home, perhaps the next town over, perhaps somewhere in Europe.

Spring was dull. Summer was devoid of hot kisses in hot parking lots against hot brick walls with only his lips to cool her. Fall was when she started looking for somewhere new to go, the next city over, the next state, the next continent, anywhere away from the pain.

Winter was the worst. It was cold outside, but there were no messages, no games, no snow in his hair that she could brush away. His brother would visit her, but they never discussed Loki’s engagement or the upcoming wedding. Thor knew about them, Loki and Sif and their secret relationship. He’d known all along, though she didn’t know how.

December 24th. That seemed a good time to get away. He helped her make plans, book flights and hotels, promised he would go with her to keep her company. Vacations alone are lonely. At least he could help.

 

* * *

 

Flight 247 to Australia, boarding in two hours. Thor would meet her inside. She looked at the clock on her phone. The wedding would be starting soon, and she tried not to picture Loki walking down the aisle in one of those suits she loved on him, another woman waiting for him at the altar. Another woman’s ring he would soon be wearing on his finger.

She had tried to forget about him, but the newspapers were a constant reminder. She hoped they would at least be happy.

_Baby, it’s cold outside._

She stepped out of her car when she got the message. The words were achingly familiar, and they brought tears to her eyes, tears she was sure she had long since cried out. How dare he do this on his wedding day. He hadn’t honestly expected her to go, had he? Angrily, she shoved her phone in her pocket and stood up, shivering as the snow swirled around her.

“Baby, it’s cold outside.” His words were close, a mere ten feet way where he stood, snow falling in his hair, a duffel bag in one hand and a suitcase standing upright by his legs. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking - Her Winter King. She resisted the urge to run to him.

“You’ll be late.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she wanted it to be, wavering with the tears she refused to cry. She was done crying over him.

“I broke it off. Two weeks ago. My father hushed it all up in the news. My parents angry for now, but they understand.”

Guilt surged through her. “Understand what?”

“We don’t love each other.” His words were simple. “She loves another as well. A bartender downtown.”

She didn’t know how to feel, but she settled for now on relief. And happiness. Everything else could wait. She watched him as he held up his right hand, a familiar silver band on his ring finger. “Baby.” His lips pulled up into a smile. “It’s cold outside.”

She ran to him, threw her arms around him, and pressed her warm lips against his cold ones. “That’s a terrible song.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if the implied ending got across (though I certainly hope it did!). When Thor found out Loki was calling off the wedding, he told him about the vacation Sif was leaving on and told him to go with her. So Loki packed his bags and met her at the airport to take Thor's place. I was going to write that in, but it made the ending sound awkward with it in, so I left it out and hoped the implications got across.
> 
> I'm also not the best at fluff, which the request called for a lot of, so I hope this is alright!


End file.
